The Joker
by cocopops1995
Summary: A chilling encounter with the Joker from an unsuspecting victim's point of view. Rated for possibly disturbing imagery.


**AN: So my brother came home with an assignment to write a narrative essay about his favourite supervillain and he asked me for help with it (his is also the Joker) and I gave him a few ideas and, well, then this happened… It's my first time writing a thriller and I must say that I had fun… even kinda creeped myself out at one stage…**

**For those of you following 'Breaking Point' I'm sorry about that delay but I will try my best to have the next chapter out by Monday at the latest.**

**Hope you all enjoy this!**

**The Joker**

The night is dark and the icy wind cuts through me as I make my way toward the streetlamp at the end of one of Gotham's many lonely allies. Suddenly a figure appears beneath the lamp as if out of nowhere. The only feature I can clearly make out is a gleaming red smile…

My heart starts to race as an eerie giggle drifts down toward me and he starts moving toward me. I want to back away, turn around and run for my life, scream, _something, _but I can't. Fear has frozen me in place and I can only watch with wide eyes as he draws up to me.

He stops right in front of me and leans in close so that his face is only centimetres away from mine, "Why so serious?" he asks me, his mad grin growing impossibly wider and I can't help the small smile that makes it's may onto my face.

Here in front of me stands _the Joker, _Gotham's very own Crown Prince of Crime, how could I _not _be at least a little bit excited to meet him?

He looks almost exactly as I've always imagined him. His green hair glistens dully in the faint moonlight that filters through the clouds above us. His blood-red lips; pulled tight across his teeth in that famous, painful looking, grin; stand out in stark contrast against his white-as-snow skin. As he stands in front of me now he seems to have the appearance of a devilish ghoul and I gulp as his eyes seem to bore into my very soul. I tear my gaze away from those bright green orbs and take in his suit; it really is purple, just like the news always says, and it's surprisingly neat, not a single crease in sight. My gaze falls upon the yellow flower sticking out of the jacket's breast pocket and I wonder if the news was right about there always being acid in it, ready to be shot out at the faces of his enemies.

It's as I'm looking at the flower that I see his hand move toward his waist and suddenly a knife is gleaming in his hand. In the next instant I feel it pressed against my throat, the cool steel bites my skin and I can feel a warm trickle running down my neck. In this instant I am so sure that I'm going to die. For a second I wonder if Batman will save me, he's never far behind the Joker, but I realise that even if he does show up there will not be enough time for him to save me. All Joker has to do is twitch and it will be all over for me. I'm trembling as I once again stare into the green orbs that are his eyes but a faint smile still lingers on my lips; if I have to go out then what better way than being killed by the Joker. I just hope he will somehow make it obvious that he was the one who killed me.

Suddenly the pressure of the knife disappears and I stumble back in shock, my eyes never leaving his as he starts to laugh a laugh which builds from a slow giggle to full out maniacal guffaws. He grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me close, shoving his face right into mine as the laughing dies down.

"Not as serious as I thought," he remarks giddily, "I like it!"

Then he lets go and my knees give out under me and I crash to the ground. The laughing starts up again but by the time I look up the laughing has faded away and the Joker along with it.

Later as I think back to my encounter with the Joker it feels surreal. The experience had been both terrifying yet exhilarating. The larger part of me hopes and prays vehemently that I will never, ever, _EVER _run into the Joker again, but in the back of my mind a voice is whispering, hoping that maybe, just _maybe, _I might meet him again someday...


End file.
